It Gets Worse When He's Stressed
by NyanCath
Summary: 7x10 Death's Door - This is what I imagine Lucifer was saying to Sam when they were waiting in the hospital for Bobby.


Sam heard Dean's yelling pierce through the sounds of Bobby's machines. He didn't get up, just listening to Dean denying the fact that Bobby may die to the small guy that Sam assumed was here for Bobby's will.

Of course Dean was right, Bobby had to be okay. It was Bobby for god sake; he'd gone through worse and came out the other side smiling.

"Now Sammy, you know that's not true" A sneering voice whispered in his ear.

_Don't look up. _Sam kept his eyes faced downwards ignoring the voice, now was neither the time nor place for revealing that he was insane. He had to be here for Bobby, not locked up in the mental ward.

"What's the survival rate for a bullet to the brain, huh Sam? I'm betting it's pretty low..." The same voice questioned mockingly

_Not real. _

"_I _may not be real, but the fact remains. Your beloved drunk in the bed over there is gonna die"

Sam looked up and glared at Lucifer, who was sitting on the nurse's desk with a innocent smile plastered on his face.

_Shut up._

"You don't want to admit it I know" He got down and crouched mere millimetres away from Sam's face "But you shouldn't worry about the after effects of his death. After all..." He looked over at Bobby "You've watched him die a hundred times before in worse ways. One time even by your own hands" He smirked, making Sam remember the feel of Bobby's neck snap beneath his hands all those years ago, before the cage.

_Bobby can't die. _

Lucifer let out a howl of laughter, making Sam flinch and a nurse look at him oddly. He forced a small smile onto his face and dropped his aching head again.

"Don't be so naive Sammy, I thought you' d have learnt better." He hissed "He is going to die. Like everyone else does in your pathetic little life."

Sam bowed his head even deeper in shame

"Like, oh let's see. Your mother" Lucifer clicked his fingers and Sam felt the flames engulf him, blistering his skin and singe his hair. _Notrealnotrealnotreal_

"Young, sweet Jessica" The flames somehow became hotter, even more unbareable than before. Sam held back a scream by biting his lip so hard he could taste the blood.

"Your Dad" *Click*

Sam felt his whole body freeze, the life being sucked out of him as the seconds went by. He struggled to breathe _NOT REAL._

"Dean, why did he die again? Oh yes, because of you." *Click*

Sam gasped as his whole torso was clawed open and blood began to seek out violently, some squirting on Lucifer's face. Who only smiled and licked some off his finger

_NOTREALNOTREALNOTREALNOTREAL._

"Now I could go on and on and on. The list is unending and forever growing after all. But I think you get the point"

He could feel the nurse's eyes on him, concerned and scared expressions plagued them all.

Where the fuck was Dean? He couldn't deal with this. So Bobby _may _die. There's still a chance he'll pull through

"Not with your luck Sammy"

That's it. He pressed down on the mutilated scar on his hand. He pressed and pressed until he could feel the blood quietly drip from his hand to the floor. He looked up, and sighed in relief. He was gone for now. He couldn't handle Lucifer's comments right now, or the torture. He needed to be there for Bobby, for Dean. He couldn't lose it here, they already had enough problems.

"Dean will have even more once Bobby flat lines and you drop your marbles on the floor like a drooling mess." Lucifer's sneering voice returned.

The blood was dripping more frequently to the floor now, he felt bad for the nurse that had to clean it up, but it was either this or have a 6'4 giant freaking out and eventually hurting someone.

Lucifer always came back quicker when he was stressed or upset. Sam didn't even want to think about what happens when he's ill, but basically Lucifer becomes the driver instead of in shotgun, and Sam's tied up in the trunk.

"Sammy?"

Sam's brain picked up the words, but not who they belonged to; so he kept his head down.

A tap on his shoulder "Sam!" the voice yelled, deep and rough with worry

Dean, it was Dean.

"Yeah?" Sam looked up at his brother, who somehow managed to look a mixture of concerned, angry as fuck and scared.

He pointed to Sam's bloody hand "you okay?"

"I'm fine" He smiled back, wiping the blood onto his newly washed jeans.

"Yeah okay" Dean replied sarcastically, the worry still in his eyes. He reached up and wiped something off Sam's lip. Then proceeded to showing him the blood on his thumb "Yeah, this looks mighty fine to me"

Sam was suddenly reminded of the pain in his lip from him badly biting it. "It's nothing." He wiped his mouth with his sleeve "I'm fine now, okay? Let's just focus on Bobby, he needs it more than I do"

"_He'll need all the attention he can get before he drops like a hooked fish"_


End file.
